Fischer. Busy. Leaning on gate. In trouble. Re-direct. Play with toys. Supper? Fischer pulls out pots and pans. Angry. 15-minute supper takes 45 minutes to prepare. Re-direct. High chair. Food. Quiet...for five minutes. Eat my own supper. Screams again. Milk? Out of high chair. Into everything. About to pull out my hair...
Sirens. Tornado warning! "Go to your basement NOW." Rain. Wind. Hail. Wife calls from four miles away. Are you OK? How is the baby?
And all of a sudden I realize I'm not mad at him any more. Anger has fled the scene and is replaced by love, concern, protection. I'm holding him as close as I can...close enough to feel him breathe. I feel guilty for being angry with him. He's innocent! He wasn't trying to make me mad! He just wanted some attention from his daddy.
We retreat to the back of our basement (away from the window) until the tornado warning has passed and the sirens have been silenced. He is being a little angel now...just holding onto me and looking into my eyes as I sing to him.
"I'll never let him go now," I think as I rock him to sleep.
Why was I mad again?